Page 74 of Betray Me
“Fine.” A smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Great, actually. You seem a bit more relaxed. Care to share with the class what’s going on inside that brilliant head of yours?”
“What’s going on is I’ve had a lot of emotions lately, mostly fear and sadness, and I just really needed some pleasure,” I whisper, nuzzling against his chest and reveling in the tiny tremor that passes through him. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to turn my back on this hunt. It doesn’t mean I’m letting the threats go. But I needed a moment of this being just us.”
Max brushes my hair back from my face, his expression open and contemplative. “Of course, baby. That’s why I asked. We both needed a reminder of why we’re fighting.” He releases a slow breath and pulls me up to straddle his lap. “Is it good for us to sit here wrapped up in each other like this?”
“Right now, for me, it’s great,” I reply with a wicked smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get to the good part too.”
My gaze wanders to his thick length, and I smirk. I wrap a hand around his cock and squeeze gently, his throat releasing a soft moan.
Max’s eyes slide closed. “Keep doing that and you’re going to make me come right now.”
“Would that make you happy?” I keep my voice low, pumping him once. “To come into my hand while I watch you?”
Max moans again, and I take it as a yes, squeezing a bit harder, rotating my wrist on the downstroke. We don’t break eye contact until his neck snaps back and his eyes roll back in his head and his breath stalls.
He comes with a grunt, pleasure, and something else—something unnamable and profoundly moving—etched across his handsome features, and his cum paints his chest, marking his skin as surely as the bruises and teeth marks I left last night. It’s a sight I’ll remember forever.
As soon as he’s still, his chest heaving, a laugh escapes. It’s not my usual quiet or polite chuckle. This one is deep and warm, and fills the cold, drafty space.
“Holy fuck,” Max breathes, shaking his head as his hand goes to his chin, his smile wide. “Did you plan that? Because damn, woman, that’s some next-level game.”
“Not sure if I’d call it a plan.” I roll off him, taking the blanket with me, and sweep a finger through the mess on his chest.
“We need a shower,” Max says, stretching his long body in a way that makes my mouth water. “You. Me. Hot water. Get that grin off your face, Belle. Shower only. Then we need to get some food in our bellies. Breakfast is my jam.”
“Good,” I say, climbing up off the floor. “Because I am a fucking mess. A happy mess, but a mess, nonetheless.”
The bathroom is surprisingly modern, if not terribly cozy, and with the help of the cabin’s ancient boiler, the hot water runsfast and steaming. Max steps into the stall first and pokes his head around the curtain. “Hop in, firecracker.”
When I step inside, the hot water eases the ache in my muscles, and it feels like falling away from a version of myself I no longer recognize. Maybe this is what I needed all along—the promise of something clean, even in the midst of all the blood and terror.
Or maybe I’m just rambling nonsense to try and fill this space that’s growing between us. It’s not the absence of violence—Max’s arms come around me, his heartbeat strong and steady against my back—but the absence of certainty. The fact that I still can’t decide whether I’m more terrified or angry.
But here, now, surrounded by a steam that fogs out the harsh morning light and swallows the rest of the world, I have the illusion of certainty. As Max slides his hands across my damp skin and his lips brush my shoulder, it doesn’t matter where or how we’re standing.
All that matters is right now.
“We need to feed you.” His breath is warm against the nape of my neck. “And caffeinate the fuck out of you.”
I twist toward him, fighting a wave of sadness that rises out of nowhere. A few hours of stolen paradise don’t make the reality go away. “Is there coffee here?”
“Real shit, in a bag, and a French press.” He gives me a rueful smile. “It’s terrible but drinkable, and there’s a bottle of brandy with our names on it.”
“Let’s do it,” I reply. Then, because this world of illusions can’t stretch to erasing the truth, “I really needed that, but now we have work to do.”
“Belle.”
“Yeah?”
“That,” Max says, his voice still rough, “was an excellent way to start the day.”
“I aim to please.” I press a kiss to his collarbone, tasting salt and satisfaction on his skin. “Though I have to admit, I had ulterior motives.”
“Oh?”
“I needed to feel powerful. In control. After yesterday, after those photos and threats…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “I needed to remember that I’m not just a victim waiting to be sacrificed. I’m someone who takes what she wants.”
His arms tighten around me. “And what do you want, Belle?”
